36 Final Contestants

"Contestants 15 and 11, you're up next!" bellowed the announcer, his voice thick with anticipation. He, like the audience, was thrilled to witness the upcoming duels.

The competitors ascended to the stage, assuming their positions. The first was the resolute and composed Wan Lijuan, while the second was the upright and muscular Guo Xuefeng.

Casting a measured glance at Wan Lijuan, Xuefeng inhaled deeply, assuming his martial stance. "Xuefeng here," he said, "please guide me in our match."

Opposite him, the unperturbed Wan Lijuan returned the introduction. "Wan Lijuan," she stated, her hands swiftly drawing the gleaming azure short sword from its sheath.

The announcer's fine grey robes fluttered as he extended his hand, commanding, "Begin." The gong reverberated at his call, drums pounding in time.

Wan Lijuan raised her blade, closing the distance between her and Xuefeng, who watched her intently. Once she was within striking range, she initiated the battle with a swift slash directed at his extended leg.

The attack missed, as Xuefeng instinctively retracted his leg and swiftly drove it forward again. His foot collided with Lijuan's hilt, causing her sword to jolt. Seizing this momentary advantage, Xuefeng lunged forward, intent on landing a punch below her neck. However, Lijuan recovered in time to execute a spin, releasing another slash aimed at his throat.

Xuefeng leaned backwards to evade the attack while simultaneously kicking upwards, his foot connecting with the incoming blade. Capitalizing on his momentum, he executed a back spring to create distance. The music's tempo surged, and the crowd's cheers soared.

Wan Lijuan didn't immediately give chase. She needed a strategy to overcome Xuefeng, a formidable opponent. Xuefeng, on the other hand, was determined to bring the fight to a swift conclusion. He advanced quickly, leaving Lijuan no choice but to retaliate. She unleashed another slash, this time directed at his chest.

Xuefeng raised his cloth-wrapped hands, deflecting the blade and surprising Lijuan. Taking advantage of his position outside the arc of her swing, he launched a back spin, culminating in a powerful kick that connected with Lijuan's side.

The impact sent Lijuan flying across the stage. The sharp clap of the hit echoed through the chamber. Lijuan rolled to a halt, coughing as she unsteadily rose to her feet. Remarkably, she was still gripping her short sword. The audience was astounded by her resilience and erupted into cheers.

Unmoved by the crowd's reaction, Xuefeng advanced again. Lijuan, despite the pain from his blow, readied herself in her sword stance.

As Xuefeng stepped within her reach, Lijuan initiated an undercommitted thrust. Xuefeng evaded the attack with a swift backward step, his front foot once again aimed to kick her blade aside. But Lijuan, exploiting the blade's upward motion, executed a circular arc, effectively blocking Xuefeng's advance.

With a discerning eye, Xuefeng observed the sweeping blade and retreated. He prepared to re-engage once the blade had passed, but Lijuan spun, releasing yet another slash towards his midsection. From her defensive pattern, Xuefeng concluded that her primary intention was to maintain distance rather than actively attacking.

Upon evading once more, Xuefeng pressed forward. Lijuan attempted another slash, but her blade was guided away yet again. Anticipating this, she promptly retreated. Xuefeng's brows furrowed in frustration.

"Why prolong the inevitable?" he grumbled, recognizing Lijuan's pattern of retreat and defense. Fed up with her delaying tactics, he resolved to mount an aggressive attack.

Closing the distance rapidly, Xuefeng aimed a punch at Lijuan's injured side. In response, Lijuan finally committed to an offensive move, her blade thrusting towards his heart.

Recognizing her intention, Xuefeng changed his course of attack, releasing his clenched fist and pivoting to the side, effectively redirecting the oncoming blade. Simultaneously, he channeled the momentum of his turn into a powerful elbow strike aimed at Lijuan's abdomen.

The impact was devastating. Lijuan doubled over as the air was expelled violently from her lungs. Xuefeng pulled back, and Lijuan collapsed to the stage, gasping for breath. The crowd erupted in victorious cheer.

The announcer, noticing that Lijuan was incapacitated, announced the victor. "Winner, Guo Xuefeng!" he declared, his voice echoing in the victorious air.

...

Beneath the stage, Tang Mu could not help but feel a surge of anxiety as he watched the unconscious Wan Lijuan being escorted away by attendants. The notion of contending with the formidable Xuefeng seemed daunting, if not impossible. However, upon glancing at his imminent opponent, Yuan Bao, a glimmer of hope sparked within him. He contemplated that perhaps securing second place wasn't such a far-fetched idea after all.

Yuan Bao, on the other hand, emanated an aura of tranquility. An undercurrent of satisfaction flowed through him; he was content with the progress he had made thus far. Sensing Tang Mu's gaze, he responded with a nonchalant glance, his thin lips curving into a slight smile. Tang Mu reciprocated the acknowledgement with a nod.

Their focus was abruptly shifted as Xuefeng descended from the stage. His posture was as rigid as ever, and his calm demeanor betrayed no signs of fatigue from his duel with Wan Lijuan.

"A commendable match," Yuan Bao uttered in his typical flat tone, his skeletal hands clasping in respect.

Xuefeng nodded in acknowledgement toward Yuan Bao but quickly shifted his attention to Tang Mu, his forthcoming opponent. Tang Mu mirrored Xuefeng's gesture, clasping his own hands in a show of mutual respect.

"The next contestants, please ascend to the stage," reverberated the announcer's resonant voice, redirecting their focus to the imminent bout.

With a deep breath to steel himself, Tang Mu advanced up the stone steps, Yuan Bao trailing behind, his hands firmly grasping the hilt of his long sword.

...

On the second floor, Zhen Bao gazed down at the stage, his heart still echoing with the pulsations of the previous match. A web of contemplation spun itself within his mind as he considered the fate of his winning gift.

The martial arts realm was a territory he had always been lukewarm towards, primarily due to its inherent danger. This path, which was paved with both fame and fortune, was also littered with death and destruction. Although fortunate enough to be born with the familial meridians and dantians, Zhen Bao found himself lackadaisical in cultivating his health.

"That's pretty violent," commented Uncle Ling, his words slicing through Zhen Bao's mental maze.

Zhen Bao turned to regard his uncle, noting the flash of discomfort that momentarily etched itself on his features. But the expression was transient, quickly dissolving into the ever-present jovial countenance as Uncle Ling scooped up a mouthful of his cherished oxtail soup.

Zhen Bao found himself aligning with his uncle's sentiment; martial arts did indeed harbor a dangerous element. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to forsake the prize. It wasn't just an accolade recognizing his artistry, which he held dear, but it also encapsulated the moment of his victory, a time capsule of triumph he wished to revisit.

Ironically, while he secretly chided his uncle for his avarice, Zhen Bao was unknowingly mirroring the very trait he judged.

...

On the stage, Tang Mu and Yuan Bao faced each other, their eyes meeting in mutual recognition of the upcoming duel. Tang Mu extended his hand in a show of respect, stating, "Yuan Bao, I look forward to our contest."

"Likewise," returned Yuan Bao, echoing Tang Mu's gesture and sentiment.

The elderly announcer gave a nod of approval, his hand ascending and his gray robes fluttering in a symbolic dance of anticipation, "Begin!" The gong resonated through the air, its deep tones accompanied by the commencement of rhythmical music.

Yuan Bao's fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword, drawing out the long, gleaming blade with an unhurried grace. The sword, a Han Jian, sported a hilt inlaid with gold, lending it an aura of opulence.

Tang Mu advanced, his gaze never straying from Yuan Bao, who held his sword poised before him. In a seamless motion, Yuan Bao drew his sword back and around, delivering a swift strike. Tang Mu evaded the attack with a duck and a leap, his agility defying the threatening blade.

As Yuan Bao redirected his attack downwards, Tang Mu spiraled into a mid-air side kick. Yuan Bao quickly shielded himself using the flat side of his blade, the impact of the kick pushing him back a few steps.

Once grounded, Tang Mu seized the moment to launch his next assault. As Yuan Bao regained his footing, he saw Tang Mu closing the distance between them. With a rapid twirl of his blade above his head, Yuan Bao dispatched an arcing slash.

Tang Mu countered with a graceful butterfly twist mid-air, evading the blade while his heel made contact with Yuan Bao's arm. A distinct crack reverberated through the hall, a testament to the force behind the kick.

Yuan Bao, his face contorted with the sting of the fracture, suppressed any vocal outcry. Unyielding to his injury, he passed the sword to his uninjured hand, simultaneously spinning it into an upward slash.

Tang Mu caught sight of the incoming blade as he descended to the ground, propelling himself backward in the nick of time. The sword barely missed its mark, instead shearing through the fabric of Tang Mu's martial hanfu at the lower back mid-flight.

In a display of dexterity and aggression, Yuan Bao pursued Tang Mu, his sword tracing swift arcs in the air as Tang Mu elegantly evaded the onslaught.

An opening eventually materialized amidst the flurry of movements, and Tang Mu seized the moment. Upon retreating from an upward slash, he sprung forward. Yuan Bao, aware of his vulnerability, reversed his grip on the blade and executed a backward spin, his blade cleaving the air in a second attempt at Tang Mu.

Tang Mu narrowly escaped, reacting instinctively. The blade merely grazed his cheek, leaving a small superficial cut. Yuan Bao found himself astonished by his opponent's evasion, and attempted to create distance. But Tang Mu, now well within his defenses, denied him the retreat.

Executing a backward spin of his own, Tang Mu swept a powerful kick into the side of Yuan Bao's thigh, toppling him to the ground. Without a pause, Tang Mu advanced, stepping on the wrist that held the blade, his other hand drawing back in preparation to strike.

"I concede," Yuan Bao admitted plainly, his features contorted in a grimace of pain from the fractured arm. With his other arm immobilized, any resistance was futile.

Tang Mu responded with a nod, releasing Yuan Bao's wrist and extending a hand to help him up. Simultaneously, the announcer's voice echoed through the space, "Winner, Tang Mu!"

The hall burst into cheers and applause, the audience captivated by the thrilling performance that had unfolded before their eyes.

...

"We will adjourn for a brief intermission of five minutes to prepare for the final match," announced the announcer, his voice echoing throughout the hall.

Music filled the air, offering a harmonious interlude to the intense martial displays that had unfolded. Spectators relished the respite, some engaged in spirited discussions about the competition, others savouring the culinary delights brought by the diligent servants.

Perched on the third floor, Li Wei found himself in conversation with Yi Tian. "Xuefeng is a sure bet for victory. If only my father had let me join the competition," he said, his tone revealing a hint of frustration.

Yi Tian maintained his silence, his finger absent-mindedly tracing the intricate carvings on the armrest of his chair. He held his tongue, cautious about his words. Every utterance bore the potential of arousing suspicion.

"Yi Tian, you've been unusually reticent ever since you arrived. The thought of going into battle must be weighing heavily on you, isn't it?" Li Wei inquired, noting the significant shift in Yi Tian's demeanor. "Don't fret. It's unlikely that you'll see blood. Father holds you in high regard."

At this, Yi Tian turned towards Li Wei, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he replied. Despite the apparent graciousness of Li Wei's words, Yi Tian couldn't shake off the subtle undertone of annoyance that lingered in his voice.